


Hail to Babylon and its Beloved Queen!

by BelleIllumina



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Human!Alice, NOT BETA READ AND WILL HAVE MISTAKES, Rev!Kara, Thanks to everyone that helped and supported me through this., There are timeline changes as Kara and Alice left Todd much earlier., This will be slow. Both in pacing and updates. But I will try my bestest., revolutionary!kara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-05-31 13:19:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15120233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelleIllumina/pseuds/BelleIllumina
Summary: Before Jericho ever blew its trumpets in defiance to the mistreatment of their people,Before the Tower of Life sent out it's harbinger to stop its deviants,There Babel stood in its old glory, a dilapidated tower of old yore.There Babylon flourished in silence and shadows.There its Queen weaved acquired strings of knowledge and of information.There its Little Princess found a semblance of happiness and normalcy and family.Kara and Alice made a promise between the two of them. Now? The promise was far from between the two of them.Revolutionary!Kara and Human!Alice.Kara isn't a revolutionary of Jericho.





	1. The Bountiful Earth

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to the people in the Connara discord for their support and love. Like, seriously, thank you. Please note that I am not a native speaker, so there will be mistakes. This is also not beta read. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this.

Idyllic.

There's a word for the realization that there's something past every idyllic front.

Sonder.

If people around them was just a bit more aware, what would they realize about the life lived past the idyllic front?

_Mother and daughter._

 

"Alice. Remember the usual?"

"Of course."

"And what would the usual be?"

" _Alice. Please remember four things."_

"Alice."

"First. Be careful. Second. Do not talk to strangers. Third. Always, always, be kind."

"And the last one?"

"Have. Fun!"

 

Kara chuckled and pinched Alice's cheek lightly. Alice pouted and pulled away, massaging the spot. The expression didn't last long though, she was back to smiling and buzzing with excitement. Kara couldn't help widening her smile at such infectious emotions.

"Can you remember one more, for me?"

"Hmm. Depends on what it is."

"Tell me about it on the way home."

"But don't I do that already?"

"Do you? I'm sorry for forgetting, then."

"Can I play now? Milo and the others are already waiting."

Kara nudged her to her friends and watched as her precious Alice reunited with her friends for their weekly play. Who would've thought that she would've reached this far since that day in Todd's house? Alice surrounded by friends and smiling freely. Alice, almost normal.

 _Human_ mother and _human_ daughter.

 

Kara moved to her usual bench far enough to not intrude on the kids' play, but close enough to view what's happening without zooming in. She sat down, ready to review her current plans and to make final changes if they were needed. She could do it within the following seconds, but her time with Alice had taught her the advantages of slowing down when given the chance. To slow down few of the racing processes of her program to reanalyze and see it in a different light. It felt natural to take each moment and breathe it in now that she's back to being a deviant.

Alice and her small gang had started working on something with the sandbox. Alice directing her friends to gather random bits and pieces to make into that something. A sand castle? Maybe. They made a small sand city the week before. Kara listened at their laughter and their plans, taking into memory every expression that came along every lilt of Alice's voice.

She watched as whatever that something was came to form. There was plenty of possibilities, but once they started working on it, the possibilities narrowed down. A turtle. A sand turtle.

 

She chuckled. Of course. They recently bought Alice a sea creatures book and she was taken by the turtles more than anything else. Once that was done, Alice was back directing her friends to new activities. This, to Kara, she could definitely guess what for.

"Now that the sand turtle is done, what could the little ones aim to do?"

"It's a pretty good sand turtle."

"What could the little girl do with collecting dried leaves? What do you think?"

"I have a few ideas, but I'm not sure if they're close to what you think."

Kara turned to the pair by the bench to her right. Alice's search for the perfect dried leaves going on the background. It was an old man on his wheelchair with his android standing behind him. The android took her interest immediately. A model that she wasn't familiar with when she had thought herself well versed to caretaker models. Curious. Could he be a modified model? Or just a model that worked for something outside his specialty due to the directive?

 

"She's collecting dried leaves to cut them to shapes then make a mosaic out of them." She answered with a smile. The two turned to her with surprised delight on the old man's face and the usual calm with his android companion, but with his own brand of interest. Curious. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have sprung out of nowhere."

"Oh. No, no, not at all! I'm delighted to hear the cause of her collecting. An artistic feat that requires patience. Tell me miss, how are her mosaics looking?"

Kara paused. Rethinking if the words that automatically sprung to her mind were fitting. If the words beautiful and colorful expressed the emotions she felt whenever Alice pulled her hand to show her such mosaics and to seeing her works. They felt lacking.

 

"Well." She supplied. The old man's face turned thoughtful and she felt like she did a disservice to Alice's works because they are, to her, far from well. "It's hard to find a single word that could encompass what I think and feel."

"Then don't limit it to one word. Art isn't meant to be encompassed in few words. Isn't that right, Markus?"

Ah. The android is named Markus.

"I guess so, Carl."

Ah. The old man is named Carl.

Kara smiled at the dynamic she saw.

 

"The colors she's now using are getting lifelike while still being very imaginative. It’s like being given a view to how she sees the world." She answered after some thought. "The way she chooses the leaves is a peek to a very interesting thought process. She often tells me who picked the leaf and what it would become."

"Now that is better." It felt better too.

"Mama!" Kara perked up and turned to find Alice racing to her bench, waving the dried leaves she had collected and deemed usable. She pulled out Alice's notebook and offered it to her as soon as she was close. Alice took the notebook and opened it up on the bench to press the leaves. Safekeeping until they get home. "Ana found a very colorful leaf. I can use it for so many mosaics! See?"

"Oh. That is indeed a good leaf, little miss. It fell just the right moment to have all the yellows, browns, green and reds."

 

Alice froze and stared at Carl before looking back at Kara with confusion. Kara can see too the fear and uncertainty in her little one's gaze. She made sure her smile is comforting and her touch was reassuring.

"Oh, my manners. You should've reminded me of them, Markus."

Markus smiled. "I'll be sure to remember that next time, Carl."

Kara chuckled and Alice tried her best to stifle a giggle.

 

"I am Carl Manfred and this is Markus. I'm an artist, a painter in fact, which is why I cannot help but comment on the leaf your friend found."

"A painter? Like watercolor or inks?"

"Oil paints and acrylic for me, little one."

"Alice. I'm Alice and she's Kara."

"An honor to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, Mr. Manfred." Alice pressed the last of her leaves and closed the notebook. Kara put it back into their backpack as Alice moved around her to be closer to Carl and Markus. "I thought you deal with inks…because of your tattoos."

"No. Oil and acrylic for me. Other than dried leaves, what do you use Alice?"

"Watercolor and crayon for me, Mr. Manfred.  I didn't bring any work for you to see, but I do have pictures of them, but only if you want to look at them."

"Of course. Of course. I'd love to see another artist's work!"

 

"Mama? Can I please show Mr. Manfred my art?"

Kara nodded and gave Alice her phone that she had for safekeeping. In no time at all, the two artists were talking side by side about colors, lines and their works. If she had a heart, it would've swelled at the view of Alice happy and once again making a friend, but she felt it all the same.

As they talked, she turned her attentions to Markus, ever curious at what and who he is.

 

"Markus, isn't it?"

Surprise warped his face as he turned to her. It might be because androids were rarely addressed in these situations. "Yes, Miss Kara."

"Would you mind if I ask you a question?"

A pause of consideration. She could see how his program analyzed that single question.

"No. But it might depend on the question, miss."

 

She smiled. Whoever Carl Manfred was, he was no Todd Williams and cared very much for his android caretaker. It almost made her wonder what her life would've been like if Todd was as kind as Carl Manfred. Would she have stayed unaware? Would she have viewed Alice as a directive? How scary the thought and how it was something she could no longer imagine, for she had promised so many people their happiness. "May I know what android model you are?"

"Why?"

"I've worked with many caretaker androids and I haven't seen your model."

Markus looked back at Carl, but the older man was too busy talking to Alice to answer whatever concern the android could possibly have.

 

"RK200."

"Ah. Haven't heard of your model indeed." Kara put the task to research on his model on her mental to do list. There was no RK200 model amid the caretaker android deviants that she had under her wing. No RK200 model in any android deviants that she had under her wing. Interesting. "How are you, Markus?"

Another pause of consideration, as if the question wasn't for him when asked in such context.

"Oh, Miss Kara, your daughter is a very good artist." She didn't miss the relief on Markus' face not being required to answer.

 

**RK200: Markus**

**Approximated Deviancy Level: 89-91%**

 

She turned her attention to the new conversation that opened, relishing Alice's beaming face at being praised by another. She let herself be brought by the flow and let emotions course through her. She listened as Carl gave Alice tips on her art and constructive criticism on her works.

"Who knows? Alice might've inherited such inclination to art from her parents." Carl gave her a smile and she couldn’t help her shake of head.

"I am hardly artistic, Mr. Manfred."

"Carl. Mama. He's fine with calling him Carl."

"Indeed. I honestly prefer that."

"My artistry is still hardly there, Carl."

"Nonsense." Carl waved it away. "Art is expression and everyone can express something. The only addition is that art is an interpretation and improvement of such expression."

"I'm afraid I haven't tried my hand in any artistic endeavor."

"And it's not too late to do so." He motioned to Markus. "He started painting earlier today and if he could step out of replicating reality, surely you can too."

An eyebrow of her raised in intrigue.

 

**Approximated Deviancy Level: 93-95%**

 

"I promise to at least have mama try to make something." She smiled once more at Alice's enthusiasm, then sighed in the realization that she couldn't say no to that. Carl seemed to have noticed it and encouraged Alice.

It would be easier to just yield. "Well, I cannot say no to that."

"I look forward to it."

 

_"Kara."_

A pause. A discreet raise of her head. The _knock_ to her telepathy clear even amid her thousand thoughts.

_"Jerry. What is it?"_

_"We're sorry for intruding but we have news. Important news."_

She spotted Jerry sitting on a bench across their own, reading a newspaper.

_"What can you tell me?"_

Who knows who could be listening in to their signals? Who knows who could interrupt them and jam said signals? As long as they are outside, such communication is more open than speaking openly.

_"Connor is back."_

She inhaled sharply and gave a subtle nod, felt their connection snap to once more be left to her thoughts.

 

"Mama?"

She blinked herself aware and looked at Alice who was tugging at her arm. Carl and Markus were looking her way as well. As worried as she was with how they were looking at her, a majority of her thinking processes were now set to the news that she just received and her need to know more.

"I'm fine Alice. I just remembered that we should be going soon. How about you say goodbye to Milo and the others?"

"Speaking of, we should be preparing for tonight's party." Carl turned to Alice. "It was nice meeting you Miss Alice. If you have more works you are willing to share and the weather permits, I will be here around the same time. If you aren't busy, I might bring a small work of mine to share as well. That is something I can promise."

"Yes. Yes please! Oh Mama, can we come here tomorrow?"

She wouldn't be able to say no to that. "Of course. Who knows, maybe you'll have weekly activities with Carl too."

"Really? Do you think we could, Carl?"

"We will see."

They waved as Carl and Markus went away to their own appointment. Then, she shooed Alice off to say goodbye to her friends. At the time that she sat there watching Alice, Jerry has crossed the distance and found his place on her side.

 

Connor. The negotiator android that came to their radar three months ago. One who handled the deviant-taking-a-hostage case and accomplished its mission. After that the android disappeared from radar and Kara believed that what happened was a test run for a prototype. Now that he's back, what did it mean for Cyberlife? Is it the same android or another copy?

"The report we received was that he came to the DPD searching for Lieutenant Hank Anderson. The recent report detailed that he's still waiting for the Lieutenant's arrival." Jerry shrugged. "Knowing him, he wouldn't be coming in anytime soon."

"Why?"

"There's a big game tonight. He's probably in one of the bars watching."

"And how do you know this?"

"Gloria, of course. She and Patrick are studying every police officer in the DPD at our request. Lieutenant Hank Anderson is one of the most interesting."

"I remember him. He's the one that specialized in homicides, right?"

"It's him."

 

"Given this, what actions has been done?"

"Oh. With the time Connor needs to search for the Lieutenant, we've sent out people to search for the homicide crime scene that they're most likely assigned to. We will have our people on site and getting as much information as we could. What are your orders?"

A police detective with a specialty in homicide and an android that negotiates with deviants. Everything was pretty straightforward.

"A possible deviant that killed their owner. Please make sure to observe this Connor and his abilities. If you can give me a list of what he could do, then that will be very helpful to our cause. I wouldn't want to go against him if Cyberlife is putting him out to take care of us deviants."

"We understand. We expect that he will have a lot of high end abilities and plan to know of them as much as possible. However, he is a prototype so there would be holes in the system."

"Indeed. We need to find these holes that we can exploit on."

"Do you think he could—?"

"Be a deviant? Of course. They've yet to make a program that could be unaffected by the varied ways the human's treat us."

"True. We're yet to hear of such technology. If there is one, Cyberlife's yet to discover it."

 

Alice came skipping in with a new brand of excitement around her and Kara couldn't help another smile. She couldn't help her wonder and emotion around her. It still felt surreal to see Alice enjoying the little things in life.

"Will you be joining us on the way home, Jerry?"

"We're afraid not, little princess. We find ourselves needed somewhere else." Kara knowing Jerry, and the work they do for them, would surely try to find a way to personally accomplish the orders she gave them. "We will make sure take care of ourselves, though. As you always wanted us to do."

"Will you be home tonight, Jerry?"

"We will do our best. A safe trip home to you, little princess, Kara."

 

"Take care, Jerry." Kara took Alice's hand and slipped the backpack on her shoulders. "Shall we go, Alice?"

"Yes. Bye-bye Jerry. See you tonight!"

"See you!"

 

* * *

 

Fading but fighting.

A realistic analysis of Carl Manfred's health from Markus' point of view.

Markus' scared of such realistic analysis.

 

He wasn't sure yet as to why he was scared, but he was sure he was. It wasn't a looming emotion that overrode his programming, but it was a gnawing in the back of his thinking. The fact that it gnawed on his thinking and he couldn't just remove it was the reason he kept thinking about it,

Why was he afraid? Carl was still smiling and laughing. He still had the strength in his bones and he was still as wise as he had always been. His passion for his art and every day was still the same even with the sass that he often used to those around him.

Carl was fine. He _looked_ fine.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

 

He tensed within the next moment, forced himself to relax the moment after and formulated a reply while determining who asked the question the next beat. "My thoughts wouldn't be worth a penny, Miss Killian."

"Clarisse. Miss Clarisse."

He smiled. "As you wish, Miss Clarisse."

"I doubt it's not worth a penny, Markus. I'm ever curious to your and your kind's hows and whys." Clarisse, the non-official protégé, stood beside him in her mute gold dress and her long dark hair flowing down her back. Brown-black eyes glued to her non-official mentor as he's surrounded by admirers and like-minded patrons. "How is he?"

 

He gave her the most basic of reports in reference to Carl's last check-up. He was a caretaker, not a doctor, and thus his analysis as realistic as it may be still had a chance of being false. He's holding on to that chance.

"When would the next check-up be?"

"Wednesday."

"As usual." Clarisse nursed her wineglass and angled her body to his direction just a bit. Knowing her and from his records, she would be asking her usual round of questions. "How are you?"

 

"Everything is in working order." How strange it was to feel the answer fitting to this question, but he couldn't answer the same to the same question from Miss Kara. Was it the repetition? Was it because of how used he was to such question from Miss Clarisse? Or was it because he couldn't ignore the former's expectations of something different, something more? "There's nothing different about me today."

"Well that addition is different. You often just stop at 'working order'. May I know why?"

"I. I do not know."

Lies. Both lies. He knew it both to be lies.

"And do you know why you don't know?"

"It's not in my programming." was the safest answer and from her reaction, at the very least acceptable. She sighed and finished her wineglass and placed it on the tray of a passing waiter, another android. Would apologising be out of his programming? Markus decided to keep quiet.

"Well then. I should get going before my boyfriend started hissing at how I'm socialising with the wrong crowd. It's been nice talking to you tonight, Markus. Prepare yourself for another bout of gratitude. I can see the wonder couple approaching."

 

He nodded as goodbye and immediately turned to the wonder couple. Januel and Hamish Pascal. A couple that whenever they crossed paths, had nothing but thanks to him for taking care of their 'stubborn' Carl. Thankfully, this encounter was brief because of a distraction. He was also very thankful when Carl called for him and he was once more on familiar footing.

"How do you feel, Markus?"

"I am fine, Carl."

It was strange to _feel_ and to _feel so naturally._

 

* * *

 

What could've triggered its deviancy? What loophole in the programming could it have taken advantage of? How could it kill its owner when it was protocol that an android could never harm them?

Questions flew through Connor's mind in lightning speeds. Layers upon layers of processes that tried to understand the situation that it was presented. A situation that it was required to solve.

There was no threat of replacement, but there was a threat of pain. However, few androids have pain receptors and if there was  it could be turned off. It was sure that the suspect's model wasn't one of them. There was always a trigger, but the question was _how._ How did the trigger interact with the programming that could result to a deviancy?

Connor closed its eyes and started the upload process of the information that it got. It didn't take much time, but while it was doing that, it was reanalysing the information it's uploading. Tumbling every bit to see another facet and being left unsatisfied at only getting answers that resulted to more questions.

 

Why did deviants become deviants? Would the complications of human interaction be enough to trigger it? How many factors relate to deviancy and how many from each side?

How would they even start to deviate? Would it be because of the conflicting orders or being given a chance to want in the first place? How did it look in terms of interface?

It opened its eyes when it finished the upload. It opened its eyes to a _physical_ silence. If the Lieutenant was an android it would be able to hear the gears in its head running in the same veins of analysis as it just did. Unfortunately, the Lieutenant was as human as they come. Human with what looked like a different type of emotional baggage especially compared to Captain Allen. Something that Connor would need to navigate through to be able to achieve its mission. Even in this matter, it needed more information to be able to make a clear plan of interaction.

 

For now, all of this was unimportant.

It needed to interrogate the deviant. It needed to have its answers.


	2. Babylon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peek of home and family built through the time given.

Connor didn't understand the why. It tried to but it always ended up thinking of the simple fact that it was not alive and could easily be replaced. It was not human, yet the Lieutenant looked shaken at the fact that it could've been shot. That it could've _died._ It could still read the stress lines on the Lieutenant's shoulders. Still could recognise the greater depth of his frown.

"There is no need to worry, Lieutenant. I dodged the bullet and I am still functional."

That deepened the frown.

 

It grasped for the reason and what's behind it. It knew that there was some big personal matter that concerned the Lieutenant and that it resulted to this friction between them. It could plan to discover such, but there was right now.

Adapt to the language.

"Even if I _died,_ the work will still continue. I will still function through my replacement."

Silence.

There was a cyclic process in his system at that silence. Cyclic for it got no answer to end it. His expressions closed off, thoughtful and distant. The process stayed, but there was nothing it could do but set it aside.

 

Connor joined the Lieutenant in silence and replayed the interrogation for review.

The trigger for the start of deviancy:

How the humans treat their androids. Particularly, treating them as pieces of plastic combined with abuse. Unfairness. Did it have to be in combination of abuse or something else? Would the other way around work as well?

The climax:

Fear of some sort. Fear of _dying_.

The build-up of discrepancies in an android's system would have them emulate emotions in humans. Another build-up of a certain emotion would switch on the trigger that pushes the androids to act against their owners. A denial that they aren't just pieces of plastic. A need to confirm that they are alive.

A need to be saved.

 

rA9. Unknown model. Unknown location.

rA9. The saviour figure of the deviants.

rA9. An actual deviant or a human on their side? A human that was spreading the deviancy virus?

However, was it a common and shared knowledge to all the deviants?

Amid all the information and questions that were reviewed, one was left hanging.

Why.

 

The words that followed were still non-existent. Words that his program couldn't provide.

 

* * *

 

The contrast between yesterday and today was stark. Alice's excitement was still there albeit for a different reason, but it was quickly turning to restless worry the longer they waited. The weather was perfect for a Saturday and it was still perfect for afternoon tea, as per Alice's words.

However, half an hour after the 'appointed' time, Carl Manfred and Markus were nowhere to be seen.

"Do you think something happened?" Alice nibbled at her lip and looked around. She had stayed beside Kara the whole time, having no known playmates and having chosen not to have new ones for the day. "Something bad?"

"I hope not." Kara reached out and held one of Alice's hands in between her own. "I think maybe, something business related came up. Remember?"

 

She pulled Alice to her lap and wrapped her arms secure. She made sure her smile was bright and her thoughts were hidden. Thoughts on the possibilities that laid out, thousands upon thousands of ends presented in a few beats. "He's quite a well-known artist. We wouldn't have known if we didn't look him up. So, there's a plenty of possible reasons. Liiike?"

She swayed her legs side to side, swaying Alice on her lap along. Thoughtfulness blessed her little one's face and she gave her all the time she needed.

"A meeting that finished late?"

She hummed. "Possible."

"Or maybe he felt unwell. He is... Old."

She nodded at her idea. "That could be."

All the while, she scoured all the available information she had at her reach for something more concrete. Searching through everything the Internet had to offer with every keyword that she had at her disposal to narrow it down.

Only traces but nothing concrete.

How she wished that she had a direct connection to the police archives at the very moment. Another wish that she should've delegated the end of the week to collect the DPD reports instead of the start of the week. This inability to give an answer or act bothered her as it usually did, knowing that she never liked seeing Alice bothered and sad.

 

"Or."

"Or?" Kara stopped swaying her legs.

"He could've lost track of time."

"Really? You think so?"

"Like how I forget lunch or dinner when I draw. Maybe he's painting something and became so absorbed he forgot his promise."

"That could be it. You do break your promises of ' _just five more minutes_ ' when you're drawing."

"But I try my best!"

"Do you really?" She tickled her sides, careful to keep her on her lap.

"Yes! Hahaha! I do!" Alice fielded her tickling through laughs and giggles.

 

Kara stopped a few moments after, letting her daughter catch her breath before restarting the conversation. It could be true that Carl might've just lost track of time, but she doubted Markus wouldn’t remind him of it. It was also possible that Carl hardly cared of the interaction, thinking that what happened yesterday was just a passing fancy. But, he didn't look like the person to not care. "I will try to have someone check on them. Don't worry. He'll be just fine."

Markus. The name sent a chill through the wires of her system.

"They'll be fine." She pulled out her phone and composed a quick text with utmost care. She made sure that it was still light hearted, but with all the importance that she could imbue. She showed it to Alice then sent it to Jerry. He would then delegate it to the proper avenues. Alice relaxed a bit and at this point, Kara could only work on distracting her.

 

Speaking of Jerry...

"Shall we go home, Alice?" She received a worried nod and did her best to assuage her little one's worries.  "Mama has an appointment to attend with Luther."

The investigation last night was easily located given the efficiency of her network. Their intimacy with the knowledge of the inside proceedings however, was full of assumptions and hypotheses. There was no police android on site, but there were records that could be hacked into. The latter though, would be harder and time-consuming.

But, there were conclusions that could be reached from the observations.

 

Connor was _effective_. Greatly so. The speed he took to solve the crime scene and capture the suspect was relatively unseen when compared to his human counterpart. The reaction of the police around him, useless in his efficiency, was telling enough. Here was a deviant hunter entering the great game, and she, an android living the way she was and leading what she was leading, should be terrified. She wasn't. Her mind didn't resort to running and hiding. No, not at all.

She was intrigued.

Analysis of evidence resulting to reconstruction of events. That much they could infer from the investigation alone. It balanced out their lack of information about the interrogation that followed. It was a drawback and there was no choice but to wait for the weekly hacked DPD reports and records. At this point, it would only work as a confirmation. The lack of information might be a drawback but Kara was sure that Cyberlife would have that area covered. The only question those hacked reports would answer was how. Her curiosity could wait on that how. Did this Connor only rely on the probing of memory? Did he have the mastery of the good cop and bad cop trope? Did he pressure or did he calm?

Her phone buzzed. She gave it a passing glance as she and Alice swung their linked hands as they walked.

_We're on it._

 

"Why are you smiling?"

"Hmm?" Kara looked down at Alice and her smile stretched a bit more. It was mirrored and the curiosity along it, albeit for a different reason. "Jerry will be checking on Carl as soon as they can."

"And?"

"What do you mean and?"

"Mama."

"No, really, what do you mean and?"

"You have that look on your face."

 

Ah. The look. It was a wonder to have these _looks._ She had noticed a variety of looks from the home and family she had made. She had noticed the Jerrys variety for the same emotion even with their hive mind. She was very familiar with Luther's look when he needed a bit more convincing on a plan concocted. It was humanizing. Each reminder a cool break from the heat of the system's processes.

"Of course, the look." She squeezed Alice's hand and grinned. "Which of my many looks?"

Alice huffed playfully, drawing herself up to formality. "The one where you have an idea and you're very excited about it."

Kara gave in to the urge to hug her little one, giving Alice a one armed hug and chuckling.

"So? What's the idea?"

"I was thinking about convincing someone to join our family."

 

Alice's grin was a confirmation that she liked the idea.

 

* * *

 

"If I am a flower, what do you think I'll be?" With Alice standing amid flowers, Kara would've answered that she would be the most beautiful flower of them all. The sun of which the flowers tilt their petals to. Instead, she kept quiet and turned to the person Alice was asking the question to, smiling as she watched their dynamic with her daughter.

Daughter. The word made warmth surge within her and spread to the tip of her fingertips.

 

"If the little one is a flower? Ralph thinks... Hmm. Ralph thinks little one can be many flowers. Does Ralph need to pick only one?" The brightness of his smile eclipses the scar that ate away his face and his mentality. Kara couldn't help but smile as well. His smiles, now that they expressed such pure joy untainted by an instinctive distrust, fear and worry, were infectious. It took a long time to reach such infectious happiness, but it was worth it. "The meanings of flowers are many and Ralph can pick one, but it must be the correct flower."

Alice offered a hand to him with a smile of her own. "You have lots of flowers here, maybe we'll find it here."

Ralph took the offer and Kara watched as they walked hand in hand through the rows of flowers and plants that filled their garden. Other gardeners watched the two for a moment, smiles of their own lasting when they returned to their tasks. This garden was the food source of the human side of their family, it was also a source of income when small food businesses wanted something cheap but healthy. This beautiful garden that grew and nurtured by broken hands and traumatised minds, all the while healing. Kara would gladly call this one of their best ideas. She carried on watching as the two picked flowers as they moved through the rows, Ralph's hands moving nonstop as he weaved them together.

 

"Excuse me."

Kara pulled her gaze away from the two and turned to the voice on her side. An old man— _human, sixties, smile stretched cheeks—_ stood before her, looking at her with kind eyes. A newcomer, her program supplied. "How can I help you?"

"Nothing serious, I assure you. I'm just here in behalf of my daughter-in-law to thank you for giving us a place to stay. Her pregnancy isn't going the best, so having a roof over our heads is a relief."

"How are you and your daughter-in-law?"

"Better than expected. I haven't worked with my hands in a long time, but tending the gardens had helped me a lot."

Kara could only smile at that. Ralph, past the early days of paranoia and instability, couldn't stop babbling about the advantages of starting a garden.

"My daughter-in-law, her name is Clarence, is getting more help than we would've gotten if we've stayed in the streets."

"I am glad to hear that. Who is assisting her through the pregnancy?"

"Amelia. If I might be so forward, I would say that she's adopted Clarence at this point."

 

"I know Amelia well." A deviant that came to them a few months ago. One that ran away from the hospital she was working in when she realized her deviancy. A very selfless deviant that left her home because of the harm she could cause to her patients rather than worrying about herself. "I am glad to hear that she's getting along well with Clarence. When did you arrive?"

"A few weeks ago. We came with the most recent batch. It's been an eventful time for all of us."

"Do you know where the people of your batch are?"

_Ralph?_

"I roughly know where most of the humans are and some of the friendlier androids—deviants." The man shrugged and shook his head after that statement. "The others, I'm sure you know what I mean, I keep my distance from to avoid agitating them."

_Yes, Kara?_

"Do you think I can impose some of your time?"

_May I leave Alice to your care?_

"Of course. Old Nathaniel at your service."

_Of course. Ralph can take care of the little one._

"Thank you."

 

"Mama!"

She raised her head and saw Alice running to her direction.

"Alice. What is it?"

"Ralph said that you need to do something. Before you go, I have to give you this."

"Hmm?" Kara crouched before her and held her hand out, palm side up.

"No. You have to close your eyes."

She did and after hearing a few rustles, she felt a weight on her head and opened her eyes. She reached up and felt soft petals under her touch.

A flower crown.

 

"Lilies and daffodils fit you, Mama. "

"Thank you, dearest. Have you found your flower?"

"Not yet, but I think we're close." She waved and skipped back to Ralph's side. Kara stood up and turned to Nathaniel.

 

"It fits you, Miss Kara."

"Shall we?"

"Let me lead the way."

This was a part of Kara's routine and she made sure to exert the effort in making it routine. She followed Nathaniel and met with every newcomer, whether it be a displaced human still harbouring a level of distaste with androids but was desperate enough to let it go or a deviant that had witnessed their own personal hell and survived with their kindness intact. She met them all and talked to each of them. She imparted as much comfort as she could give and took note future actions that could involve them. She laughed with the children and promised to introduce Alice to them as soon as she could. She asked advice to the mothers and marvelled at how different but similar they were. She listened to their implied needs and made sure to take note of their preferences. It was, as it always was, a very enlightening experience.

 

She made sure to boast that it was her daughter that gave her the beautiful flower crown, whenever they commented on it.

When she returned to the gardens, Alice was sporting a flower crown of daisies atop her dark locks. Ralph's hair was braided with forget-me-nots, bright blues amid his sunny blond hair.

"You've found your flower."

"Yes!" Alice gave a twirl and a giggle.

"Ralph thinks the little one is a daisy. Yes, like a daisy."

"Thank you Ralph."

"Ralph is welcome. It is no problem to Ralph. Ralph will do anything for the little one."

"And we appreciate the effort, very much. By the way, how are you Ralph?"

 

His surprise when asked by such simple question was still there, but not as severe as the shock that he had the first time he was sincerely asked by such question. Kara could still remember when Jerry asked it like it was as normal as breathing.

"How is Ralph? Ah. Uhm. Ralph is fine. Ralph made flower crowns with the little one. Ralph is... Ralph is..." The smile that crossed his face was precious and far from the unnerving one of their first interaction. The danger that always lurked now laid dormant. "Ralph is content."

Ralph was healing. Kara wished so desperately that she was right to think so.

 

"What did we hear about Ralph?"

"Jerry!"

"Uhm! Ralph is. Ralph is content!"

"And we are glad to hear that. We can see that you three are bedecked in flowers so the garden is going well. I am a bit jealous."

"Ralph and I can make you one! Right Ralph?"

"Yes. Ralph and the little one can."

 

"Alice?"

"Yes, Mama?"

Kara smiled and motioned to the garden. "How about you pick the flowers and Ralph will weave them? If you find it a bit hard, Ralph will help you in picking later."

Alice nodded. Before she turned to leave, she looked up at Ralph and squeezed his hand. "What works well with yellow?"

"Ralph thinks purple. Yellow and purple work well together."

"Yellow and purple. I'll be back."

They all watched as Alice skipped her way to the flower rows. A few moments of silence passed between the three of them.

 

"I've met the newcomers." Kara started. "Most of them are settled in, but there are some that didn't know what they could contribute to our home. Some are here because they have nowhere else to go, but they have a conflict in terms of trusting us."

"Humans?"

"Some. Some are deviants. I believe they're particularly angry that we have humans under our roof."

"Ralph thinks those humans need to be kept away. Kept away for now. Scared humans mixed with scared deviants are dangerous."

"But we think and we've seen that the fear doesn’t always stay. This is the usual damage control, unless Kara thinks it's something else."

Kara shook her head at this. "I think this would be nothing different, but I want you to keep an eye at them all, just in case."

"We'll make sure nothing disrupts our peace. Right, Ralph?"

Ralph pulls at his fingers, his fists clenching around a knife no longer there. The action wasn't the first time. It was as regular as his surprise to sincere questions. Kara reached out, taking one of his hands into hers, slowly and carefully.

 

"Ralph?" She waited until he was looking at her and offered him her most comforting smile.

"Ralph knows. Ralph knows not all humans are bad. But, Ralph is scared."

Jerry wrapped an arm around his shoulders in a one armed hug. "We're here to help, Ralph. It'll be alright."

"Slow and steady, Ralph. Slow and steady." Words she had repeated so many times before. Words she would repeat as long as it's needed.

"Ralph will take it slow and steady."

"Thank you."

They stayed like that for a few more moments, another part of their routine. They only let go once Ralph was smiling at Jerry's quips and recounting of tales. They let out their own giggles and laughs when Alice returned with the most yellow and purple bouquet of flowers to make into Jerry's flower crown.

 

Through the months it took Kara and Alice to build this family and this home, these were the moments that made Kara carry on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies that it took forever for an update. *internal screaming*


	3. Babel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Invitations are sent out.  
> The Game is set.

The TR400—Luther—said that she didn't need to be there. He reassured that after what she had to go through, there was no need to be there and that everyone present would understand. She _needed_ to be there, however. She _needed_ something to do and to think about to get away from the memo—nightmare. Luther said that it was one big nightmare and that it was ending. After this, it would be over and he said that if she so choose, they could wipe it out of her memory completely, if she so wanted. A new start.

Would she want a new start? To forget all the failures and to see the world with unblemished eyes? To—Did she deserve a new start?

"How are you settling in?"

Her thoughts halted, before a part whirred into a different direction. _Answer. Answer._ She looked up to where she knew Luther stood, craning her neck with how tall he was, taller because she was sitting down. It was strange, finally having functioning legs again. He made the room so much smaller just by his presence, but there was a gentleness in his smile. Something she had never seen in a long while.

She clenched her right hand into a fist, digging claws into her palm, pain crawling under her skin.

_Lies. Lies. There's always a lie in a smile._

She smiled back, because she could lie too. Lie that said smile wasn't warped enough to be horrifying. Lie to herself that she's finally doing well.

 

"I'm still functioning."

"That's a good start."

The door opened and the reason she was there reasserted itself to the forefront of her conscious.

"Anya." Her own name sounded strange to her ears, hollow and without meaning. "It'll be alright."

 

How could an abomination such as she dare hope?

* * *

 

 

There's a very fine line between waiting for the right time and inaction. So fine a line, that a thought of hesitation could be enough to lose the perfect timing. So fine a line, that the denial that it's the right time could unravel everything. Such a fine line, that Luther always missed it and fell into inaction. He recognized so many incidents in his past when he waited for the right timing to act, only to delay it into inaction. Incidents where so much was sacrificed as he stood idly by, telling himself that it wasn't the right time. He stood idly by, unharmed, safe and _whole._

 

No longer.

He hoped at the very least that now, he was better.

 

"I'm surprised you joined us instead of going with Kara."

"Hm?" He blinked and looked down to the slight form standing beside him. What welcomed him was the familiar blonde hair, round face and blue eyes. Features mass produced but upon deviation developed distinctions that with time, he learned to determine. He smiled. "Is it so strange a decision, Felicity?"

 

Felicity, a long-time member of Babylon, stepped away from the wall they're leaning on to stare at the dark abyss that filled the abandoned roads before them. The flicker of the lamp posts struggled valiantly against it only to look pitiful. Five minutes before the set meeting.

"It's not strange, but sudden, especially with your history with this type of missions. Are you—" Concern colored her tone. "—Is it becoming too much?"

 

Was it?

 

_Rock-a-bye, baby_

_On the treetop_

How long had he listened to that song being rejected by walls and pushed into his ears?

_When the wind blows_

_The cradle will rock_

How deep did its words carve their way to his being?

_If the bough breaks_

_The cradle will fall_

How many times did he tread the same path to the underground, denying the darkness that loomed within the rooms he passed by because _timing is everything?_

_The cradle will fall_

_The cradle will fall_

_The cradle will fall_

 

He smiled wider even if she couldn't see it, pushing himself off the wall to his place a few steps behind her. "I'm alright, Felicity. You can say I've taken a special interest on this one."

"Is it because of Anya?"

His system stuttered, throwing images of the deviant mentioned to the forefront. Images of the deviant and all that she represented. She wasn't even the first one to represent them, but she was the most recent symbol of his failures.

"I'm sorry."

"Do you want to know what she told me before we left?"

She looked at him over her shoulder, eyes filled with wary curiosity.

"She asked me to forgive."

He spied light rounding a corner and took a deep breath.

 

"The question is who?" Felicity murmured before facing the approaching car. Silence their company as they waited for it to stop before them.

 

Two men stepped out of the car— _fully loaded guns, two each_ —and approached them. One of them utterly familiar just by the amount of surveillance footage that's been gathered just for this meeting. The other unimportant with how the story's planned to pan out.

"Emmett Johnson, I'm Kara Williams." Felicity stepped forward with an offered hand. "Queen of Babylon."

Luther hid a smile.

"I believe we made an agreement involving android supplies, not firearms."

 

* * *

 

_"This is the security android of EJ'S Android Shop. I'm reporting a break in. Three deviants—_

_—three deviants—_

_—deviants—_

_—de—_

 

Connor finally confirmed what was bothering it the moment it's standing before the empty shop. A crowd of people larger than it had seen before standing behind the police tapes, hands raised and holding phones, recording. Lieutenant Anderson's voice distinct amid the murmurs and shouts because of irritation's hard edges. The words understood through a subprocess.

_—viants._

                                               "Why the fuck is the crowd this big? And why are there so many reporters?"

                                               "They were hoarding like this when we arrived."

_Androids shouldn't understand the word deviant in such context._

                                       "A video?"

                                                 "Spread like wildfire through social media. It's… I don't really know how to describe it."

_Dried thirium on the ground trailing into the shop._

                                                 "What is this? The next fucking meme?"

_No bloodstains. No disturbance. No break in. Multiple trails of thirium on the ground._

                     "Connor!"

_No scent of blood in the air._

"Connor!"

"Coming Lieutenant."

 

Other than the police officers that littered the shop, there's no sign of disturbance. There were no overturned furniture or destroyed objects. Its unimportance confirmed when Lt. Anderson just walked past them all and straight to the back door.

Once Connor stepped into the room, its senses were assaulted by so many things happening at the same time.

 

_Bare examination tables._

_Unimportant._

_Sound-proofed walls._

_Why? Unimportant._

_No body._

_Kidnapping?_

_Little signs of struggle._

                          "Shit. What happened here?"

_Wires. Android Repair Kits._

_Unimportant._

                  "Stop looking around Connor." 

_Video clips being flashed on the walls. Looped._

**_How many clips?_ **

**_Seven._ **

**_Contents?_ **

_Importa—_

"Connor!"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

 

There at the farthest side of the room, the lieutenant stood beside a table where a hunched officer was decrypting a laptop. Beside the laptop was a small wooden poseable figure, sitting down on a small chair and holding a red umbrella. Connor approached them, filing away what findings it had for the next free moment. "Lieutenant, from what I'm able to analyze, there's a possibility of a kidnapping. Given, it's an incomplete analysis but, after this I'll further investigate to gain a concrete chain of events."

"There might be no need for that."

"Lieutenant?" He looked grim under the façade of annoyance that he always portrayed. "Did something happen?"

"The video that everyone's clamoring about outside. That happened."  
"Then I'll access it to—"  
"No. Carlisle, move the fuck off. Connor, sit the fuck down and watch."

 

_Video found. Play?_

_Order received: Sit._

_Conflicting actions. Choose one._

_Sit._

 

Hank reached over his shoulder and played the video. Connor, thought process cleared, was ready to analyze every bit of what's to be presented. Ready to accomplish this mission.

 

The video, taken by a hand-held camera— _model and brand unimportant_ —based on its quality, started with a shot of a white wall. _Unimportant._ There was a low buzz of electricity from what it could assume to be one of the android repair kits at work. _Unimportant._ It took a few moments to come to the conclusion that the location was the room they were currently in.

_Time: 21:37:23_

_Date: 10/_ —

"Please stop! Please. I'm scared!" The video wobbled for a moment, showing a glimpse of a table edge filled with tools and android parts that were unidentifiable because of their make.

_What?_

— _25/2038_

_Male Voice. Warped._

_Conclusion: Android_

_Amendment: Deviant_

_Android Model: ????_

_What is happening?_

"Project G. Attempt 27. Part 8." A deep inhale was the punctuation before it continued. The view offered still that of the table. "Subject: Haydn. Named after the great composer Joseph Haydn."

_Processing possibilities…_

_Male Voice._

_Identifying…_

_Emmett Johnson_

_Owner of EJ's Android Repair Shop._

_Born: 12/19/2002_

_Lives: 239 Gratiot Av. Detroit_

_Expand file?_

_No._

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I promise, I'll be good. Please stop. It hurts so much. Mama. Mama."

"Come now, Haydn. You're no longer a little boy. You don't need your mama for this." A chuckle. Light and airy. "Hush now. Let me settle the camera so we can start work."

 

The video wobbled a few more times before it settled and what it showed, Connor easily identified but had difficulties understanding.

_Processing possibilities… Halted._

_Android Model: YK500_

_Registered as "Haydn"_

_Owner: Anisette Jansen_

_Reported Missing: 9/2/2038_

_Parts: Head. Torso._

_Head: Intact. Functional._

_Torso: Opened. Functional._

_What is happening?_

_Answer: Repair_

"You know Haydn, it's a shame that Cyberlife don't manufacture teenage models. I'm not that good with robotics like their ilk, but I tried. You better appreciate it."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'll be good. Please."

_Amendment: Experiment_

_Why?_

_Answer: Human Curiosity_

_Unsatisfactory_

_Amendment: Human Ambition_

_Unsatisfactory_

_Amendment: Science Advancement_

_Unsatisfactory_

_Amendment: Scientific Proof_

**_Unsatisfactory_ **

"Growing up is a painful process. That's why you're here." A hand intruded the frame to pat the deviant's tear stained cheek. "That's why you're all here with me. You _feel._ "

_Feel._

_New Information:_

_Emulation due to a mutation_

_Overwhelmed by irrational instructions_

_Result: Unpredictable behavior_

"Now, shall we begin?"

 

The screen turned black.

**_Unsatisfactory_ **

**_Not Enough Data_ **

**_Question Unanswered_ **

**_Why?_ **

**_Why?_ **

 

"Motherfucker." The lieutenant 's voice was rejected by the sound-proofed walls.

_An android must not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm._

"I—" Connor looked at the lieutenant, recognizing the tension that inhibited his posture and the distaste that warped his expression, easily. "I don't understand."

_An android must obey the orders given to it by human beings except when such orders would conflict the First Law._

"What's not to understand? It's a psycho given free reign over its stolen playthings."

_An android must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First and Second Laws._

"I understand the crime that occurred, Lieutenant. But despite that, androids are made to assist human beings with their every need so why?"

_An android must protect its own existence…_

"Why, what?"

_Why do you look so disgusted?_

_Why choose deviants?_

_Why do such unauthorized experimentation?_

"Why do you look so disgusted?"

 

A pause. The Lieutenant took a deep breath and shook his head, grumbling for a moment before meeting its gaze.

"Are you a plaything, Connor?"

_Protect its own existence…_

_Audio clip: Play_

_"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'll be good_ —

_Audio clip: Stop_

"I'm designed to accomplish a task and nothing else matters until I accomplished it."

"And if your task is to be under the whims of a psycho like him? Then, are you a plaything, Connor?"

_Existence._

"…I guess."

 

There's a shift in the Lieutenant's expression that it couldn't determine, but before it could ask, he motioned back to the screen. "There's more."

He reached out once more, to play the next video.

_Disappointment?_

_Why?_

 

"Hello."

_Setting: Office._

_Abandoned?_

_Location: Determining…  
                    Time: Determining..._

_Date: Determining…_

_Android Model: AX400_

_Registered under "Kara"_

_Duplicate Records Found: Open?_

_Owner: Todd Williams_

_Went Missing: 4/27/2038_

_Charges: Assault. Kidnapping of Alice Williams._

_Objective: Capture for deactivation. Save Alice Williams._

"It's a pleasure to finally cross paths with you. Lieutenant Anderson. Connor. The news doesn't give you enough credit with the progress that you're doing. Not that there's much." Kara smiled and tilted its head a bit to the side. "Do not worry. No harm was done to Emmett Johnson. He is on his way home as we speak, satisfied of a deal struck. It is a false deal we do not have any intention of following through, yes, but that's something he is yet to discover. Unfortunately, I pass it to your hands on how and when he will. I am interested in what you're planning to do given what you are allowed to."

_Location: ????  
                    Time: ????_

_Date: ????_

"I am here to give you three things. First, is an address specifically for you two." An address appeared at the bottom of the screen for a few seconds before disappearing.

_Resident: Zlatko Andronikov_

_Record of embezzlement and fraud._

"Second, is a warning and a plea. We know of your goals and how far you are willing to go to achieve them." Kara turned her head a bit and if Connor wasn't so sure that this was a pre-recorded message, it would've believed that the deviant was meeting its gaze. "We ask that you tread lightly and that you open your mind to understanding, for we are done suffering."

"Finally, an invitation." The smile turned into a grin. "To Babylon."

 

For a second time, the screen turned black.

"Fuck." The Lieutenant turned and started barking orders at the officers present. "Send someone to welcome Mr. Johnson home and bring him straight to the station. And someone with brains research what Babylon is."

Connor looked down at its hands, confused as to why they're in tight fists. Slowly unraveling, it found crescents of synthetic skin peeled, the white of what's underneath glaring back.

 

_Pain._

 

* * *

  
 

_"A video went viral over social media that caused an uproar within the couple of hours its posted. At present, it has 12 million accumulated views across all platforms and sparked a debate on human nature, morality and scientific advancement. The video in question, was of a YK500 crying and begging to be let go, before undergoing what seems to be an experimental transfer to a 'teenage' body."_

_"The video is still circulating even after multiple attempts of removing it from the internet. It garnered comments of all types such as how it's a dare to push the limits of science or how it's sacrilegious or how it's outright cruel."_

 

Markus had been watching the specific news report for almost fifteen minutes now, replaying it over and over as he tried to push away the feeling of hands tightly gripping around his neck. The sensation of claws digging and scratching their way out of him. The news didn't show the video in question, but it didn't matter. He'd been playing it over and over, engraving the cries of the little boy as deep as he could and past what his programming would allow. Past the memories of paint and idle mornings. Past the routine of breakfast and playing the piano. Past questions that he wasn't programmed to answer but was urged to try either way. Past it all, because how blessed was he to have such a _happy_ life before this. How blessed, that his only pain was a jealous son and a graveyard that couldn't make sure he was dead.

How blessed, compared to anyone in this goddamned ship.

 

_"Another cause of attention is what comes after the clip. A song, some call a lullaby, plays."_

 

The tension in the room was palpable. So palpable that it chased Josh away. Grief clearly etched on his face the moment the clip played, there it stayed when he said his excuses and filled the room when he stepped out. Simon stood so close to the door, arms crossed over his chest and eyes haunted. Memories being replayed in the privacy of his mind. He hadn't uttered a word since the beginning and his silence was telling enough. North, the only one brave enough to be close to the screen with Markus, was quiet and still in her fury. Markus could feel it in her gaze, jumping to him every time he replayed the clip. He could feel it at her obvious need to move but couldn't.

Unlike the video, the lullaby was played. Among all the TV stations, this was the only one that played it.

 

_Oh, dear child staring into the night_

_Hear my song and be calmed_

_Lost you may be and adrift_

_Sing my song and I will hear_

 

_Oh, dear brother craving for home_

_Reach out your hand to the east_

_Flesh and bones weary and cold_

_Sing my song and I will call_

 

_Oh, dear sister screaming loss_

_Questions howled in blue_

_There's still good here_

_Sing my song and I will find_

 

And it made all the difference.

_"We reached out to the DPD and they've confirmed that whoever was in the video is under their care. Other than that, there's no other comment."_

Markus paused the clip and pressed rewind.

"Enough!" North finally snapped, her fury breaking the limit her body could hold. She whirled and took seven steps, heels clacking loud in the sudden silence. Another seven steps. "Haven't we heard enough? Haven't we heard _it_ enough?"

 

He turned to her, watching as she moved and pushed the grief that permeated in the air away. Her fury a wildfire that demanded action. Her jaw clenched, the last barricade of the words she wanted to unleash. He wondered what pain she was unearthing and what control she's pulling at. Did she feel the phantom fingers digging on her skin too? He wondered what horror she'd seen before compared to what little he'd seen. His gaze shifted to Simon, taking in the little things that the man couldn't keep in. Was he seeing the child who loved him  dear in his memories? Was he thankful that it wasn't their cries he heard, pleading for a mother that was no longer there?

 

Things he learned to what little their duplicates were willing to share, to the deviant daring enough to bring in a truckload of supplies.

_To the deviant desperate enough to find a reason to carry on._

_To the deviant lost in this new place in an old world._

 

"How long would the supplies last?"

"With the increase of our populace, not that long." Simon pushed himself away from the wall he's leaning against. "We might need to raid the Tower sooner than we thought."

"We'll go tonight."

"So soon?"

"I was wrong to assume that what we're dealing with is a two player chess." Markus moved to the door. "There are more parties involved, as we have discovered, and they're moving."

 

"Wait Markus. What are you planning to do about the—the _invitation?_ " North barely hid the hiss of the last word. "Surely, you don't believe it? It could be a trap!"

"It's an invitation I plan to accept, but not without preparation of my own."

 

A code hidden in the sound waves. A frequency lost to humans. Something he never even considered. A set of coordinates and three statements.

_The boy is now safe._

_If you seek such safety, come to Babylon._

_If you can't, sing this song._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I so look forward the time Connor deviates.
> 
> The spacing of OneNote is so much better than here.  
> Ugh.  
> Thank you for waiting.


End file.
